Help
by jelenamichel
Summary: Mindless TIVA fluff. Tony and Ziva help each other out. Note the M rating is there for a reason.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So. Hands up, who needs some gratuitous TIVA fluff after the season 6 finale? Me too. Hey look, there's some right here!  
I'm not even going to pretend that this has a legitimate plot. If you don't like this stuff, don't read any further. It's rated M for a reason.**

**Disclaimer: Mine? No. Thanks for asking.**

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Ziva David was frustrated. It had been raining so hard in DC for the last three days that she hadn't been able to go for a run, and she practically had to swim to her car in the mornings. She'd tried to get in some exercise in the Navy yard gym each day, but it wasn't enough and she was still brimming with excess energy. Today especially she was finding it hard to sit still and concentrate, and not just because it was Saturday.

"Got ants in your pants, Ziva?" Tony asked from behind his desk.

She looked over and, as expected, found him smirking. She frowned in response. What the hell kind of question was that? "Don't you think I would have noticed when I put them on?"

Tony leaned over his desk and Ziva recognised the look on his face. She was about to get an English lesson. "It's a saying, Ziva. I mean you seem jumpy. Nervy. Full of beans. Fit to be tied."

"You're just making things up now."

He smiled like she amused him to no end. "Are you okay?" he asked in plain English.

"Yes. Fine."

Tony shrugged and returned to his work. Ziva aimed a glare at the side of his face. Her frustration today was, in part, Tony's fault. Being a Saturday, he hadn't bothered with one of the fitted, retro suits he'd taken to wearing lately. Instead, he'd turned up at the office in Chucks, jeans, a fitted brown tee and two days' worth of facial hair. In her current state, all it had taken was eye contact—not even a smile—for her body to react. He was distracting her, and she doubted he was even trying. That irritated her to no end. As did the fact that she lost 20 minutes this morning to wondering what it would take to make him blush.

She only realised she was staring at him again when Gibbs blew through the bullpen, making her jump and wonder if she'd missed any information while busy thinking lusty thoughts about her partner.

"Going out," Gibbs called as he passed Ziva's desk, heading to the elevator.

"Need any help?" Tony called after him.

"Did I ask, DiNozzo?" came the reply.

Once Gibbs had stepped onto the elevator, Tony looked to Ziva. "Gibbs doesn't need any help," he clued her in.

"How long do you think he'll be gone?" she asked.

Tony glanced out the window. "Well, the boat's not finished yet and he'll definitely need that. So it could be weeks."

She stood up, unclipped her gun and stuck it in her drawer. "I'm going to the gym."

Tony made a face. "Again? Did they start serving mojitos down there or something?"

"Just trying to get the ants out of my pants, Tony," she replied, and headed for the stairs.

Tony looked around the empty bullpen. Gibbs was off on his secret squirrel mission, Ziva was heading back to the punching bag, McGee was loitering in Abby's lab, and no other teams were around on their floor.

"But I'm _bored_!" he yelled out.

A half hour later, Ziva stepped out of the cool shower and slid on her underwear. The boxing session had helped a little, she thought. She could have gone for another half hour, followed by some sprints, but who knew where Gibbs had gone or when he'd be back and yelling at her for not being at her desk. The quick session with the punching bag would have to do for the time being.

She clasped her bra and then let her hair out as she stepped out of the shower stall and crossed to her locker. She held her jeans and shirt in her hand when she heard Tony call out from the door to the locker room.

"Ziva? You in here?" His voice came closer and she looked up just as he rounded the bank of lockers to her left. He stopped dead when he saw her, and she watched his eyes fall quickly to take her all in. Right away, Ziva knew that the session with the punching bag hadn't been nearly long enough. Although she couldn't imagine how long she'd need for her body to be too tired to react to the look Tony was currently giving her.

"What, Tony?" she asked. She'd intended to sound pissed, but her voice box rebelled and delivered something much heavier. Huskier.

Tony took one more look at the dark green silk against her olive skin and then forced his eyes to hers. "Sorry. Uh, Gibbs called. He's on his way back. Thought I'd give you a heads up."

Ziva tossed her clothes on the bench and flicked her hair out of her face. "Did he find anything on Petty Officer Philips?"

"Hard to say."

"He didn't say?"

"He didn't say." One step towards her.

"What did he say?" One step towards him.

"That he was coming back." Another step closer.

Ziva fumed. Add that to the list of things frustrating her. Gibbs being so taciturn. Wet weather. Tony's blatant hotness.

They locked eyes. Again, Ziva knew the look that crossed his face. He aimed it at her a lot these days. Desire. She was surprised when she shivered in response. Tony took another half step towards her. His chest was only a few inches from hers, close enough for Ziva to feel the heat radiating off him. She stood her ground.

"You okay?" he asked again, dropping and smoothing out his voice. He did that a lot these days, too. The voice usually accompanied the look, and he threw them at her when he was trying to shake her up. If this were any other day, she'd respond in kind, they'd tease each other a bit while pretending it really was all a joke, and they'd go back to work. But this was not any other day, and teasing wasn't going to cut it.

Ziva made a choice. "Come here," she ordered, her voice almost breaking, as she grabbed his wrist and led him back to the shower stall.

Tony shut the door and locked it, then faced her with his chest brushing hers. Ziva's hand was still tight around his wrist as they looked at each other quietly, their breathing coming shallower now. Ziva felt her heart beating so hard it almost hurt, and it only got worse when he gave her half a smile. That damn smile killed her. But mostly, she blamed the half beard for what she was about to do.

"What can I do for you?" Tony finally asked. It would have sounded polite if he hadn't practically growled it. She could feel the tension in him, could hear how his voice got tighter, and felt him pressing her into the wall. It gave her courage, and she gripped his wrist even harder.

"Help me out," she told him. When he nodded, she felt compelled to add, "If you have a moment."

Tony wouldn't leave now if the building caught fire. "Of course."

Taking the direct approach, Ziva held his darkening gaze as she led his hand up her bare thigh and between her legs to press over her. Her own fingers weren't even touching her, but she knew she was hot and wet. Four years was a long time to wait.

She waited a suspended moment, half expecting him to pull away and politely decline this enormous leap in their friendship/partnership/relationship—whatever 'ship' it was these days. But then he took a shuddering breath, sighed her name, and his fingers began to move over the silk. A strong, thrilled stab ran through her, and she sighed in pleasure as her head dropped back against the wall.

As his mouth came down on her neck to kiss, suck and nibble on her skin, Ziva pushed her hips into his hand and forcibly held his head to her—right where Gibbs usually smacked him. With her other hand, she grabbed a fist full of his t-shirt at his waist. The man was not going _anywhere_ until she said so.

Quickly tiring of touching her without _touching_ her, Tony slid his hand under the waistband of her pants and dragged his fingers between her soaking folds, over and over until finally he slid them inside her. Her eyes shut as she concentrated on the ridiculously perfect feeling, and she took a deep breath, drawing in the fresh yet musky smell of him that never failed to make her stomach flip.

His fingers hit a spot inside her just as his thumb pressed against the bundle of nerves she was dying for him to touch. She barely held herself back from screaming, instead letting out a whimper that sounded foreign to her ears.

"Yes! Tony, right there. Like that," she cried.

More than happy to take direction, Tony contorted his wrist to stroke her like that over and over. Her fists got tighter around his clothes and her nails pressed into his skin as she half panted, half cried against his ear. Without question, he would do this every day for the rest of his life if she asked.

"Tony," she breathed into his ear. He nipped her neck harder in response, then followed the line of her collarbone with his mouth.

Right now Ziva couldn't remember why she'd invested so much energy over the years into stopping herself from touching him. She adored him, they were mad for each other, and they had a pretty good emotional relationship going on. What they were doing now was completely natural. And really fucking good. It seemed insane that they'd denied themselves for so long.

Tony kept working her until she was moaning and sighing with every breath. He rubbed her instinctively, finding the spots and angles that made her shake the most and committing it to memory. The smell of her want was thick in the air, and he thought of dropping to his knees to taste it. But then she started begging.

"Please," Ziva whimpered against his cheek. "Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease."

He thought about teasing her, drawing it out for as long as possible until she was screaming for it, but he couldn't wait to watch her come. With any luck, he'd get the chance to tease her another time. For now, he increased the pressure between her legs, sliding his fingers through her soaking folds to her clit and began rubbing it harder and faster.

Ziva gasped like she'd been shocked, and her hands grabbed wildly at him as she pushed her hips into his hand as hard as she could. She felt his other hand on her chin, forcibly turning her head, and she opened her eyes for just a second to see his face right in front of hers, his eyes watching her intently. His forehead came down to rest against hers, and her eyes slid shut again as an excited ripple ran through her. She had no problem with him watching her so closely.

"Come on," he encouraged her.

"Tony," she moaned again, drawing his name out like he sometimes did to hers. "Harder. Please!"

He pressed against her even harder, ignoring his concern that surely he had to be hurting her now. But it seemed to be just what she needed. It took just a second or two for Ziva's entire body to tense, and he instinctively put his hand over her mouth. A moment later, he heard the muffled scream of his name as the beautiful creature in his hands jolted violently. He kept rubbing her, more gently now, wanting to draw every bit of tension, every cry, every shudder out of her.

Finally her body relaxed, and he moved his hand from her mouth. Ziva sucked in the breaths she'd foregone in the last minute, and smiled at the warm, gooey feeling that started slowly spreading through her limbs. _That_ was the feeling she'd been looking for when she'd hit the gym this week. Sated and pleasantly numbing.

Somehow, Tony managed to make himself remove his hand from her pants—even when he knocked her still sensitive skin and drew another jolt and a breathy "Oh!" out of her. He closed his hands around her hips, pulled his head back slightly, and waited.

Once she'd calmed down enough, Ziva opened her eyes as far as they'd go, met his gaze, and then split into a huge smile. Tony let out the breath he'd been holding and gave her his biggest one in response.

"Thanks," she said casually, as if he'd just bought her a coffee, then laughed at how ridiculous it sounded.

Tony chuckled, relaxed now that he had the feeling that things would continue to be just fine between them. "No problem, Zi. Feel better?"

"Much." She smiled at him affectionately, and then leaned forward to press her lips to his. The kiss was simple, lasting only a second or two, but it served its purpose as the conclusion to the tale. They would be fine together.

"I'm free anytime," he told her, gently teasing. "Just let me know when I can help out."

She smiled and gave him another kiss, much quicker this time, and uncurled her fists from around his t-shirt. "Thank you."

Tony reached for the door and opened it just a crack so he could check to make sure they didn't have company. When he found the coast clear, he turned to look back at her. She was leaning against the wall, breathing hard, face flushed, her eyes dark, hair tussled, and her body looking like it would drop to the floor at any moment.

He shook his head in awe. "You look so beautiful right now," he told her.

Ziva smirked. "Believe me, Tony. You look better." It was his smile, his beard, his ass that that'd gotten them in this situation in the first place.

The compliment lit up his face, and Ziva realized that may have been the first honest compliment she'd paid him without meaning to make fun of him. "See you up there."

"I won't be long."

He shut the door behind him, and Ziva slid the lock into place before leaning back against the wall again. _Well_, she thought, _that went better than expected._

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**Don't worry, I couldn't leave it there. Tony gets his—just click through to the next chapter. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Still not mine.**

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That Thursday afternoon, Tony was the one feeling anxious. The case they'd started working on Friday had gone cold, Gibbs was in a foul mood that he seemed to aim solely at Tony, and Tony was starting to think he was developing bleeding on the brain from all the head slaps. It would explain why he could not, for the life of him, work out where their missing petty officer had gone. It gave him only partial comfort that no one else could work it out either.

He and Gibbs were pushing each other, sniping and taking passive-aggressiveness to Olympic levels until finally, Gibbs snapped.

"Get out of here, DiNozzo!" he boomed after Tony made a 'joke' about their loner petty officer being in a basement somewhere with a boat and some whisky. "Go home, calm down, clear your head, and get your ass back here tomorrow with the answer to this fucking case!"

Tony opened his mouth, intending to point out Gibbs' own lack of clarity on this one, but stopped when he saw the tight, warning shake of Ziva's head. He bit his tongue. Ziva was the only one being level headed about this case. Even McGee and Abby had gone loopy. So he heeded her warning and stood to collect his things.

As he slipped the file on Petty Officer Philips into his jacket, he looked around for witnesses. Gibbs was banging his fingers furiously on his keyboard, McGee was avoiding all eye contact with everyone, and Ziva…had totally sprung him.

She gave him a little headshake, but Tony knew she wouldn't say a word. In response, he gave her a completely over-the-top look of innocence and breezed off towards the elevator.

For the next two hours, Ziva and McGee endured slammed drawers, yelled phone calls and threatening mutterings. Then, when Gibbs stood over Tony's desk, flinging files in all directions, Ziva knew she was next in the firing line.

"David!" he barked. "Where the hell is DiNozzo's file on Philips?"

Ziva swallowed and held Gibbs' gaze. "I think Tony may have taken it with him."

Gibbs stalked over to her desk and leaned over her. "You think?"

"It's possible. You asked him to come up with an answer, yes?"

Gibbs glared at her, his face so close she could smell sawdust under the coffee. Ziva knew this was Gibbs' way of accusing her of taking Tony's side. She waited it out.

"Go get it," Gibbs told her. "Now."

Ziva nodded and reached for her bag. She didn't breathe again until the elevator doors closed.

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Tony was still pissed when he answered the door, but much of the fight went out of him when he found Ziva's face looking back at him.

"Did he send you to rub me out?" Tony joked.

Ziva smiled and shut the door behind her as Tony returned to the living room. "If he had, you would not still be alive." She headed for his kitchen and opened the fridge. She hadn't had time for lunch yet, and she was starving.

"Oh, thanks!" he called out, pretending to be hurt. "You'd pick your boss over your partner."

Ziva sniffed something cheesy-looking in a container. She thought it had probably once been lasagne. Now she wasn't so sure. "Not necessarily," she called back, settling on a single bottle of water and heading for the living room. "It would depend on who would be most valuable to me."

Tony looked up at her and pointed to himself like it was completely obvious. Ziva took a sip of water to hide her smile.

"He's after the folder you dropped," she said.

"Lifted," Tony corrected. "He can't have it yet."

Ziva took the seat on the couch next to him and looked at the open file on the coffee table. "You're supposed to be taking a break this afternoon," she pointed out.

"But I know I'm close," Tony sighed. "I've got to crack this thing. It's making us all crazy."

"I am fine," she pointed out.

He shot her a sideways glance. "Don't think I haven't noticed. It's starting to creep me out."

Ziva shrugged. Not much she could do about that. "Tony, you're going to burn up if you don't rest," she pushed.

"Burn out," he corrected again. "I know. But the answer is right here." He stabbed at the open file.

Ziva had enough. Quickly, she moved so that she was sitting on the coffee table in front of him, right on top of the file. "And now it's under my ass."

Tony blinked at her, expressionless. "Mature," he deadpanned.

Ziva forced a cheesy smile and pinched his cheek. "We can't all be as grown up as _you_, Tony."

He had to laugh. "Ziva, if you think putting your ass in the way of something I want to look at will be a deterrent, you don't know me very well."

An idea formed and she took off her jacket so that she was just in a wide-necked black t-shirt. "Will you give me five minutes?" she asked.

"Sure," he answered automatically. "What for?"

She didn't answer him exactly. "Five minutes of your time uninterrupted by work."

Tony dropped his pen on the coffee table in defeat, then flopped back against the couch and laced his fingers behind his head. "Okay. How's your day been?" he asked, passive-aggressive again.

Her eyes met his after a quick journey over his body. He was still dressed in the crisp white shirt and grey pants he'd worn that morning, but he'd lost the jacket and tie, and had untucked the shirt.

"I've had better," she told him. "But I don't want to talk about me. Or Gibbs. Or you."

"What do you want to talk about?"

"Nothing. Close your eyes."

He looked at her suspiciously. "Promise you're not going to rub me out?"

She rolled her eyes, but otherwise ignored the comment. "I just want to help you out, Tony."

Something pinged in his head, and he raised an eyebrow at her. Did she mean what he thought she meant? She laid her hands on his knees and leaned towards him.

"Relax," she said, adopting the huskier tone she always used when they were flirting. "Close your eyes."

Tony blew out a disbelieving laugh. He couldn't believe he hadn't thought about this before. "Well, why didn't you just say so?" he asked, then did as he was told.

Ziva shuffled up to the edge of the table so that one of her thighs was between his, and one of his was between hers. Then, she leaned forward to run her hands up his thighs and over his hips to the hem of his shirt. When she pushed it up to expose the skin of his stomach, Tony's eyes slowly opened to watch her. He had no doubt he'd enjoy this with his eyes closed, but honestly he'd rather watch her face.

She looked up and caught him, and gave him a warning look. But Tony shook his head in response.

"I'm visual, Ziva," he stated.

She sighed and let him have his way. After all, this was about _him_.

By the time she ran her hands over him, Tony was already hardening. Ziva smiled up at him, pleased by his response.

"See?" he said, his voice getting heavier. "If I'd kept my eyes closed I would have missed that look."

She squeezed him and he sucked in a breath. "You like to watch me, yes?"

"Yes," he confirmed.

She smiled again as both her hands worked on him through the material of his pants. "Okay. Watch me." She said it as if issuing a challenge. He didn't know whether he should be worried, but right now it seemed like the easiest request he'd ever had to grant.

Ziva unzipped his pants and spread them open, then slid her hand inside his boxers to pull him free. Tony gasped and grabbed her outer knee at the skin-to-skin contact, and Ziva clenched and felt herself grow heavy at the sight and feel of him. He definitely met her approval, and she allowed herself to fast-forward to the time when she'd feel herself stretch to take him in. Back in the present, she gave him a pleased smile. But the self-confident smirk she expected to find was nowhere to be found. Instead, he was giving her that same intense stare he had when she was teetering on the edge on Saturday. Like his whole world at that moment consisted of her. At least she'd gotten his mind off work.

She started playing with him as she liked, learning his favourite moves by the tilt of his hips and his cries. Stroking, pumping, hard, slow, fast, soft, both hands, corkscrew. Every time he seemed to get used to something, she deliberately changed the routine. And Tony loved it. He hadn't been touched like this in he couldn't even remember how long, and Ziva seemed attuned to what he wanted. _Thanks for sending me home early, Gibbs_.

Tony's hand stroked up and down the outside of her knee and thigh, but he couldn't reach her other leg in this position. His arm would get in the way of what she was doing, and he did not want that to happen. He badly wanted his hands on her, though. Just like in the shower stall, he could smell her strongly, and his lust-scattered mind told him that in order to keep smelling her, he had to hold on to her properly.

He lifted his eyes from her hands around his cock to see her looking down at him, biting her lip in concentration. For whatever reason, he found the look explosively hot, and he let out a growl. Ziva raised her eyes to meet his and gave him a slow smile that he knew he would replay in his head, over and over until the end of his days. An intense, almost painful stab of pleasure hit him, and he grabbed at her knee.

"Come closer. Please?" he begged, his voice strained.

Removing her hands for just a second, Ziva stood, braced her hands on his shoulders as she moved both her legs to bracket his, and then sat down on his knees, leaving just enough room to get her hands on him. She pumped his shaft firmly as her other hand went lower to play with his balls.

"Jesus, Zi," he panted, then leaned forward to bury his face in her neck, drawing in the scent of her. His hands slid up the outside of her thighs, all the way up under her butt.

"Skirts, Ziva," he gritted out. "You gotta look into skirts."

She smiled against his neck and started kissing the skin there like he'd done on Saturday. The way he grunted and squeezed her ass gave her a pretty good indication that his neck was one of his more sensitive spots.

Tony opened his eyes again, and he got closer to the edge when he found that from his position he could see himself in her hands her breasts inside her t-shirt. His hands reached for the hem of her t-shirt before the thought was formed, but he managed to stop himself before he touched her.

Ziva saw the movement and smiled. She'd hate to deprive him of something he'd enjoy. Especially if she'd enjoy it too. "You can touch me, Tony," she told him.

Tony growled, lifted his head, and then lifted her top. Ziva raised her arms over her head in cooperation. She wasn't actually expecting him to strip her down, but she certainly wasn't going to complain. She'd always liked the way Tony watched her. And now it seemed that she quite liked exposing herself to him as well.

As she returned to the task at hand, Tony's hands went to her breasts, squeezing them through her bra and setting off sparks of pleasure in her. He kissed his way down her throat, and then pushed her back just enough so that he could run his lips along the flesh that peeked out from the top of her bra.

"Ziva," he whispered against her, then kissed his way back to her neck. "Ziva." His hands found her hair, and he took a bunch of it gently in his fist to turn her face to him. "Ziva," he said again, as his other hand burrowed inside the back of her pants. She realized he was holding her much as she'd gripped him. He wasn't letting go of her until he was done. She smiled for him and kissed his cheek.

Tony's breath started coming quicker, and she felt his fist starting to pull on her hair. He was close, she thought, so she focused on quick, hard strokes under his head.

"Zi!" he cried out, and moved his hand from her pants to grip her hip hard. Although his hips bucked, she felt he was holding back. That was not what Ziva had in mind.

"Tony," she moaned, injecting just enough desperation into her voice to let him know she wanted him to let go.

After another half dozen strokes and a well-placed nip to the soft skin under his ear, the pressure became too much and Tony spilled over her hands with a cry of her name. Ziva kept pumping him, getting every drop out of him before very slowly winding down. She held on to him until he lifted his head and released his grip on her hip, but not her hair. They locked eyes and she gave him a wink. Mission accomplished.

"Feel better?" she asked, mirroring his question from Saturday.

Just as Ziva had, Tony gave her one of his biggest smiles. "Much. Thank you."

Ziva returned the smile. "Well, I'm free any time to help you out."

Tony took his cue and moved in to kiss her. It was longer and deeper than their last kiss. Tony wanted more of her, and Ziva couldn't make herself pull back. But still it was relatively simple. Touch and part, touch and part.

Finally, Tony released his grip on her hair and they put more than three inches between them. Ziva gave him a final squeeze, making him jump, and then stood up.

"Be right back."

His eyes fell to the white spill on her hand. It turned him on, but he decided to go for apologetic. "Oh. Sorry."

"Don't apologise," Ziva recited.

Tony misunderstood. "Sometimes apologies are not a sign of weakness, Ziva."

She smirked. "I agree. But it's not necessary in this instance. It was the desired outcome, yes?"

She brushed a kiss against his forehead and headed for the bathroom, leaving Tony to bliss out on the couch.

When she returned two minutes later, Tony hadn't moved save to zip up. He looked relaxed and happy, and he didn't even raise an eyebrow when she picked up the file that had brought her there.

"I should get back before Gibbs sends McGee out after me," she said.

Tony nodded, and slowly got to his feet. He grabbed her t-shirt off the table and handed it to her. "Thanks for stopping by."

"Always a pleasure," she replied, slipping the shirt over her head. She picked up her jacket and Tony walked her to the door.

"See you tomorrow?"

Tony nodded. "I'll be there, on my best behaviour, and with the answer that's going to crack this case open."

Ziva opened the door. "That's the spirit," she said, then headed off down the hallway. Tony watched her ass as she went, and shook his head at the change a week could make.

_When did I get so lucky?_

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**Okay, are we all feeling better now? I hope a little bit. Now I've got that out of my system it's back to something with a plot. **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: This chapter comes to you after a loooong break because LittleSammy was very kind, and I promised her this about two months ago. Strong M rated content below. I mean it. If you came here because you're enjoying **_**In Transit**_**, this is ****not**** the same kind of story. But if you came here because of **_**Heat Wave**_**, well, you're probably exactly where you're supposed to be.**

**And this is completely out of cannon. And this is more of a friends-with-benefits thing than a romance.**

**Disclaimer: So disclaimed, baby.**

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A week later, Tony was with McGee in the bullpen, tasked with making calls to the friends and acquaintances of a missing ensign. Gibbs and Ziva had left an hour before to talk to the ensign's ex-girlfriend, and frankly Tony was surprised that they hadn't returned. He'd made a few comments to McGee about crazy and/or uncooperative witnesses on this case, but McGee didn't feel like playing and Tony was getting bored.

That was, until Ziva walked back in.

Tony was on the phone to the manager of a boat shop the ensign worked at for a few months when the elevator dinged and his partner stepped into the bullpen. With his first glance at her, Tony tuned out whatever the manager was saying. His hot Israeli partner—the one he was sort of secretly obsessed with doing 'favors' for of late—was soaking wet. Her black suit pants were soaked. Her hair was soaked. Her green shirt was soaked and, more importantly, clinging to her.

"Hello?" Tony heard in his ear.

"I'm sorry, I'm going to have to call you back," he told the witness, and quickly hung up as Ziva dumped her backpack beside her desk with a sigh. Tony looked over to McGee, just to make sure that he wasn't imagining this, but McGee only raised an eyebrow of confirmation at Tony. They both turned back to Ziva.

"Ziva," Tony drawled, "did you do something different with your hair?"

Fearing knives being thrown and paperclips being wielded, McGee winced and sank further down in his seat. But his fear was misplaced, as Ziva ran a hand through her wet curls and let out a small laugh.

"We questioned the ex-girlfriend," Ziva told them, seemingly oblivious to the effect that droplets of water sliding into her shirt was having on Tony, in particular. "She did not appreciate our interest."

"Garden hose?" McGee guessed.

Ziva shook her head. "Swimming pool."

McGee paused to let Tony take the next question, but it appeared that the senior agent wasn't really interested in talking right now.

He asked, "Gibbs?"

"Taking a shower," Ziva replied, then walked over to Tony's desk. "May I borrow your shirt?"

The whole situation was scrambling Tony's brain, and he looked down at the shirt he was wearing with confusion. "Uh…"

Ziva rolled her eyes. "The spare one in your bottom drawer, Tony," she spelt out. "I have jeans in my locker, but took everything else home on Wednesday to wash."

The corner of Tony's mouth lifted as he regained his power of speech. "And you don't want to borrow something with a skull and crossbones motif from Abby?"

The request was becoming a pain Ziva didn't have the patience for, so she turned her back on Tony and stepped towards McGee. "Fine. McGee, would you have a shirt I could borrow?"

Before McGee even had a chance to open his mouth, Tony cut him off.

"You can borrow mine," he told her, as if it had never been an issue. And it wasn't, really. He was just flustered by the thought of Ziva wearing his shirt. It was so…morning after. And they hadn't had the night before yet.

He opened his bottom drawer, and his hand connected with Ziva's as she bent over and reached in to take the spare shirt. He pulled his hand back and raised his eyes to look at her, and for three glorious seconds, he found that he had a clear view inside her wet top at her wet chest and bra. Then the moment was over, as Ziva stood up, kicked his drawer shut and gave him a smirk.

"Thank you," she said, and then headed for the elevator. "I will be right back."

Tony watched her back until she disappeared into the elevator, and his mind raced over what the hell she'd meant by that smirk. Had she caught him looking down her top? And did the smirk mean she didn't care? Was it a silent comment on his predictability? He sighed to himself and threw his pen down, frustrated by his sudden inability to read her. No matter what she had meant by it, she'd just given him another epic Ziva fantasy on a platter.

* * *

Twelve hours later, Tony dragged his tired body into Abby's lab. He, Ziva, McGee and Gibbs had been up for 26 hours looking for their missing ensign, and now that they'd interviewed everyone they could think of, Gibbs had granted them all a three-hour break. It wasn't enough time to go home for a proper sleep, meal and shower, but it did allow for a nap and a snack. So Tony had headed for the nearest McDonalds for a sausage and egg McMuffin, then went straight to the lab, stopping only to grab a Caf-Pow sweetener.

"Mornin', Abs," he said, his voice now lower and scratchier with his tiredness.

Abby spun around and gave him a disgustingly perky smile. Tony knew it wasn't the artificial perky that came from Abby staying up all night and fuelling herself with caffeine. This was real, honest to God morning perky.

"Hey, Tony!"

"You got home last night?" he guessed.

Abby nodded. "You didn't?"

He shook his head and handed over the Caf-Pow. "Can I crash at your pad for an hour or two?"

Abby tried and failed to bite back a smile. "I don't mind, but Ziva's already in there."

Tony took the muffin out of the take out bag and shrugged. "Whatever," he sighed. "I'm too tired to fight her."

He headed through Abby's inner office and slowly opened the door beside the ballistics lab that led to Abby's makeshift sleeping quarters. Without windows it was dark as night inside, but the light coming in through the door allowed him to see Ziva's head lift from the pillow to look over at him.

"Please do not tell me that Gibbs wants us back already."

The thought that their break might be cut short made Tony shut the door firmly behind him and lock it for good measure. He was _not_ going to leave this room until he'd had a few hours away from Gibbs.

"He doesn't," he assured her, dropping his voice to suit the darkness in the room. "You stole my idea. Move over."

He took his cell phone out of his pocket and set the alarm for two hours, while he simultaneously toed off his shoes and took a bite of his muffin. Multitasking after 26 hours on the job? Pretty impressive, he thought.

"What are you eating?" Ziva asked, almost dreamily.

Tony looked between her shadow and the muffin in his hand. Man, he must _really_ like her to share food with her right now. He took another bite and then leaned over to hand the remaining half to her. "Here."

"Tony," she moaned, in a way that sounded far too inviting for his liking.

"Don't say I never bought you anything good," he warned as Ziva made quick work of the muffin.

He got to his knees at the foot of the futon mattress on the floor, and gently smacked her butt in a second request for her to make some room on the king single. This time she shifted further to the edge to make room, and lay on her side. Tony flopped down beside her, facing her, and after some shuffling they ended up resting against each other, his arm over her waist, and their legs tangled. It wasn't as if the single bed gave them a lot of room to spread out, right?

Now settled, Tony looked at her across the pillow. In the dark of the room he couldn't be completely sure, but he thought she had an amused smile of her face.

"What?"

"Nothing," Ziva replied, her breath barely tickling Tony's chin. "Thank you for sharing your muffin."

There was something in her tone that made Tony think that the weak double entendre was deliberate. "If I can't share my muffin with you, who can I share it with?"

Ziva snickered, and shifted again. Closer, he was sure of it. Her chest was now firmly against his, and despite his exhaustion just moments ago, he now felt very awake. He took a chance by running his hand over the curve of her waist, and then plucked at her shirt between his thumb and forefinger.

"This looks good on you," he told her. He was, frankly, appalled at his amateur attempt at flirting, but Ziva didn't seem to mind.

Her voice came back, deeper and softer, just an inch from his face. "Really? I thought you seemed fond of what I was wearing before this."

Tony smiled over the slightest of winces, knowing she had _definitely_ caught him staring in the bullpen. But she hardly sounded irritated. "It was a _really_ good look for you," he admitted.

"It seemed like a good look for you, too," she returned, sounding amused.

Tony didn't think she was looking for an apology, so instead he pushed it a bit further. "Worth dying over," he said, and squeezed her hip.

Ziva chuckled as she recalled the conversation years ago that he was referring to. "I'm flattered you think so."

Tony snorted. "It's given me enough Ziva fantasy fodder for another month." It was true, but as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he couldn't believe he'd actually said it. "Did I say that out loud?"

Ziva was quiet for long enough to make him panic that he was about to get a karate chop to the neck, but then she pushed herself up on her elbow and swung her leg over his to roll him to his back and lie on top of him. Surprised, Tony's hands nonetheless settled on the flare of her ass as he felt his heart rate pick up. He bit back a groan as his body reacted to the delicious feeling of soft, warm Ziva on top of him.

"A month?" Ziva questioned. Her face was hovering right above his, causing her hair to hang down and tickle his cheeks.

"Now it's more like two," he said honestly.

In response, Ziva arched her back to make her hips press into his, and then lowered her head. She gave the sensitive skin on his neck, right below his ear, a lick, and then a soft kiss. Tony inhaled sharply and dug his fingers harder into her through her clothes.

He desperately tried to think of the terminology they'd been using to refer to their secret liaisons in the last two weeks. "So, uh, you want me to help you out with something?"

His question got him another kiss on his neck. "Do you mind sacrificing another half hour of sleep?"

Tony weighed it up for all of two seconds. "Ummm, I'll make do," he said quickly, and then flipped her under him without warning. He pressed his thigh between her legs, making her arch up and groan, and he felt her fingers dig into the back of his shoulders.

Just as she'd done to him, Tony lowered his mouth to her neck and started brushing his lips along the soft skin. Propping himself up on one elbow, he dropped his other hand to her waist and then slowly drew it up her side. He paused just under her breast, pressing his palm against her ribcage as he drew his head back. He couldn't see her expression clearly but could feel her hot breath on his chin. Despite the position they were in, and the way she curled herself around him willingly, he still felt a flash of concern.

Somehow, he found the level head to give her a chance to stop it. "You should feel free to stop me if…"

"I trust you, Tony," she cut in, telling him plainly—and with a hint of frustration—that she was as fine with this as she had been the previous two times.

Tony literally groaned in relief, and a little jolt of happiness went through him. There was something about that statement that gave him a ridiculous sense of pride, but he wasn't sure why, and his cock was now too awake to allow him to delve into the psychology of it. The thinking could come later. Now was the time for action.

His mouth went back to her neck, and he pressed his lips to the sensitive skin under her ear, causing her to gasp and grip his shoulder harder. He started dropping warm kisses up and down the column of her throat, adding a lick here, a suck there, a nibble over her pulse point, but nothing so hard that it would leave tell-tale marks. Ziva sighed into his ear and closed her eyes, letting herself focus on the feel of his lips, the rough wetness of his tongue and his welcome weight pinning her down. She rolled her hips against his thigh, reminding him that her neck was not the only part of her that required attention, and he pressed down with his hip in acknowledgement. Patience. She had to have a little patience.

Tony's hand skimmed over her breast, making her shiver, before his fingers went to the buttons of _his_ shirt on her body and started popping them open. When he met the waistband of her jeans, he gripped the shirt in his fist and tugged it free. He undid the last two buttons and spread one side of the shirt open, then rested his hand low on the tiny curve of her belly.

Ziva felt her skin erupt in gooseflesh, although she couldn't tell if it was because of the cool air hitting her bare skin, or the knowledge that it was Tony who was undressing her. She took a deep breath, drawing in a lungful of Tony's scent, and the low throb between her legs suddenly got stronger. As he started pushing his palm up her torso, his mouth went lower to kiss along her collarbone. A sigh escaped her lips and she slid her hand from his shoulder into the short hair on the back of his head. She gripped the strands gently as he explored her skin with his mouth, and she found herself torn between lying back and enjoying it, and pushing him down further to where she ultimately wanted him. She decided to wait it out, deciding that the journey would be almost as good as the final destination.

Tony pushed his hand slowly all the way from her belly to her throat, trying to memorize the feel of her soft skin. It was only when his hand started its journey downwards again that he realized that he's made the trip without encountering a single obstruction. His cock twitched at the thought, and he rested his hand heavily between her breasts as he lifted his face from her chest to hover over her.

"Have you been walking around all this time in my shirt without a bra on?" He barely recognized the strained, gravelly voice as his own.

The voice sent a sharp stab of pleasure between Ziva's legs, and then she lifted her head just far enough to brush her lips against his. "You only just noticed that?" she breathed. "I think I might be insulted."

Tony slid his hand to the left to cover her breast with his warm palm. She sucked in a shuddering breath as shivers ran through her.

"Forgiven," she groaned.

Tony smiled at finally finding a way to make her quickly back down from an argument. It was a shame that he probably wouldn't be able to use it in the bullpen, but with any luck, it would come in handy at _some_ point in the future.

He dropped his head so that he could kiss her mouth, and he hoped she wouldn't pull back. As intimate as they'd gotten in the last two weeks, their kisses had been quite brief and gentle, and they hadn't sated his desire for her. But Ziva kissed him back with even more enthusiasm than he'd shown her, and she pushed her tongue into his mouth and tightened her grip in his hair. He let himself go, kissing her without restraint like he had always wanted to, and when she moaned into his mouth, he couldn't help the answering moan or the thrust of his hips against her thigh. His head suddenly filled with the hundred fantasies he'd built around her over the years, and he was almost overwhelmed by all the thoughts of what he wanted to do to her. Kissing her like this was just one of them. He'd be able to tick off at least a couple more tonight.

He pulled his mouth from hers before his lungs exploded from the lack of oxygen, and dropped his head to the oh-so-soft skin of her breast. Ziva let out a cry akin to the one that was burned into his memory from their adventures in the locker room, and he resolved to get her to make that noise at least once more before the alarm on his cell phone went off. As his mouth got to know her breast, he shifted himself half off her to make room for his hand sliding down, down, down and between her legs to cup her. Even through her jeans, he could feel her burning hot and growing damp. Her hips lifted off the mattress as she sought a firmer touch, and her fingernails dug into his shoulder.

"Yes," she groaned.

His reply was muffled against her flesh, and he started drawing slow circles over her jeans. The hand in his hair got tighter, and he pressed his fingers a little harder against her, like he'd learned she liked. Her hips rose again to meet the touch, and Tony swore she got even hotter. He felt a little buzz of anticipation at the top of his spine as he ran his tongue around her nipple. Enough of this over-the-clothes business, he decided, and slid his hand up just far enough to pop the button on her jeans, and draw the zipper down. His fingertips found the edge of her underwear and he slid his hand inside them as Ziva let out a soft, shuddering cry.

"Oh, my God," he said into her breast, as his fingers encountered burning hot, slick flesh.

Ziva didn't know why _he_ was crying to his deity when _she _was the one having the experience. The exploration of his fingers made her thighs feel weak and shaky, and she raked her fingers into his hair as she moaned his name. She couldn't keep her hips still as he stroked her, and when he pushed two fingers inside her, she had to cover her mouth with her hand to stop herself for yelling out. God, she _loved_ him touching her like this.

Tony looked up when she reacted, but he could barely see her in the dark. He wanted to watch her face as he did this to her. Her expression had been one of the hottest things about each of their previous liaisons, and he felt almost robbed that he wouldn't get to see it this time in the dark room. But today was all about Ziva, and if she wasn't bothered by the dark, he wouldn't be either. He just wanted her to enjoy it.

Almost as soon as he'd had the thought, Tony lifted his head further and stopped what he was doing. Jesus, this really _was_ for her. He didn't even care that he probably wouldn't get anything in return. He was honestly going to get off solely on making her come. Had that ever happened to him before?

"What?" Ziva demanded, still managing to sound threatening even as she panted.

"Nothing," he lied. "Just thought I heard something."

"You locked the door, yes?"

"Yes."

He stalled further discussion by sitting back on his heels and grabbing the waist of her jeans and underwear in both his fists. Ziva lifted her hips, and he didn't bother being gentle when he yanked them both down and off her legs. Ziva clearly wasn't interested in gentle right now, and he was too eager to get down to business that he wasn't sure he would have been able to be anyway.

He ran his hands from her ankles up her shins, and once he hit her knees his touch moved inwards, to the unfathomably soft skin of her inner thighs. She bent one of her legs to the side, opening herself with seemingly no hesitation, and the scent that hit him made his head spin and his cock even harder. He got down on his belly on the floor to lick a path up the inside of her thigh, and he felt her muscles tense at the tickle. Above him, Ziva let out a sigh that was all _yes_ and no _hurry up_, and he lay one of his palms low on her belly. The fingers of his other hand trailed over her lips for a moment, making her wait just that little bit longer before he moved in and gave her a long, firm lick from bottom to top.

Ziva's spine arched off the mattress like she'd been shocked, and she cried out as her hand returned to the back of his head. He barely needed the encouragement though, and got to work in earnest, drawing his tongue over her perfectly sensitized flesh. Just as he had with his fingers, he got to know the touches she loved with his tongue and lips. Flicking her there made her moan like that, sucking her here made her cry out like this. Nudging her over and over made her pelvis shake and reset her language to Hebrew.

He slid two fingers inside her again and crooked them as he went in search of the angle he'd found the other day that had set her off. It didn't matter to him if it took a while to find it. She was so hot, so wet, so into it that he thought he could do this for hours. Pity they only had about two and a half spare.

Ziva formed half a thought to send a fruit basket to every woman who came before her in thanks for teaching him how to do this, but then he flicked her again and she abandoned complex thought for the next little while. Instead, she just let herself feel and react. She had complete trust in him in this, and she knew she didn't need to stay on guard.

She didn't really know how long he kept her in a state of restless bliss. She wasn't aware of herself crying and moaning his name over and over as she shook under his mouth. All she knew was that too soon, she was feeling the painfully sweet pressure rising within her, and Tony was pushing her harder towards release rather than backing off. She would have protested, but another part of her thought that if he strung it out much longer, she would have burst into tears.

She grabbed at the pillow under her head and brought it over her face just in time to muffle the scream that tore from her as his tongue passed one more time over the raw bundle of nerves and sent her shattering into pieces.

Tony held the touch, making the wave last as long as possible for her until she slowly lowered her hips to the ground, and her thigh muscles under his hand relaxed. He released his mouth's hold on her and then started licking her very, very softly as she contracted around his fingers. His painfully hard cock, now pressed against the floor, was screaming at him to bury himself inside her and feel that contraction where he really wanted to, but Tony exercised every last molecule of restraint he had to ignore the instinct. When that happened—and it would—he wanted to be able to look at her. Because he was determined to memorize every single detail of her face and body when he made her scream again.

Gently, he withdrew his fingers, and when he felt her body go slack, he started very slowly kissing his way over her thighs, her hips, her belly. He'd barely made it to her breasts when Ziva came alive again, wrapped herself around him, and flipped him onto his back. The heat coming off her body made him flush as she crouched over him on her elbows and knees, and her face hovered above his.

"Thank you," she said, her voice like sandpaper as her breath touched his lips.

His hands found their way under _his_ shirt to slide along her back. "No problem. I like being helpful to you."

She let out a noise halfway between a snort and a moan, and then brought her lips down hard on his. Her tongue pushed into his mouth again, and Tony wound his arms around her to draw her body down, flush against him. Her pelvic bone hit his overly hard cock, making him literally wince and gasp, drawing breath out of her lungs. Ziva moaned into his mouth in reply, and he felt the welcome reverberation through his chest.

He became so lost in the kiss that when she broke it, he was momentarily confused. Ziva sat back on her heels, still straddling him, and ran her hands down his chest over the top of his shirt. He could barely hear her panting over the sound of blood rushing through his ears, and he wondered how there could be any blood left in the top of his body when he was sure it had all gone south.

"God, Tony," she growled, the raw sound of it getting him straight at his core.

He didn't even register that her hands were moving until his pants were already open, and she was holding his shaft. Tony hissed through his teeth and the feeling of warm, strong hands around him, and his fingers dug into her bare thighs. He felt her move back again, shifting her weight further towards his knees as she held him in that oh-so-familiar way, and it was obvious what was coming. What happened next was pure insanity.

"No, don't," he told her, his voice strangled.

She was silent for a beat. "What?" she asked, like he'd just said the dumbest thing imaginable.

He wanted to find the knife she probably had hidden within arm's reach and stab himself. "I want to see you."

Ziva's grip at the base of his shaft got a little firmer, and he would've thanked her for holding him off if he wasn't struggling to breathe.

"You want me to turn the light on?" she asked.

He was so tense, and her question was so practical, that Tony actually laughed. "No, I want to see _you_. Not all the guns and boxes and whatever the hell else Abby has in here."

Ziva's hand stroked up and down his length slowly. "You want me to leave you like this, Tony?" She didn't sound convinced, and frankly, being left in this state was Tony's idea of hell right now.

"Uh," he started, as if he'd know what to do if he was just given a moment to think about it.

He felt Ziva's weight lift off him again, but only for a moment. When she lowered herself again, she was further up his thighs, but what _really_ got his attention was the feel of her second hand, suddenly slippery with her own wetness, gliding up his shaft.

Something snapped inside him, and Tony sat up lightning fast, drove his fingers into her hair and crushed his mouth against hers in a bruising, wanting kiss. Ziva kissed him back but let him lead as she concentrated on working her hands around his cock, drawing out the release he so desperately needed. He broke the kiss only to nip her bottom lip with his teeth and force rasped words against her mouth.

"Just touch me," he ordered. "I'm gonna watch you later, but just touch me now."

"Happy to," she assured him, and accepted another hard kiss before he buried his face in the curve of her neck. One of his hands remained fisted in her hair as the other went around her back, holding her there with a strength she hadn't felt from him before. She worked her hand on his shaft faster, knowing it wouldn't take long when he was so spectacularly turned on, and her other hand dipped lower to very, very gently stroke over his balls. He made a noise into her neck that was either a curse or a prayer, and Ziva lifted her mouth to his ear.

"You can watch me all you want, Tony," she whispered, and two seconds later, he cried out half her name into her neck and spilled over her hands. She placed a wet kiss to his cheek, right in front of his ear, and then smiled over his shoulder. He was obviously very keen to watch her, and she knew she'd enjoy the show too.

She slowly brought him down from his high, and then returned his much softer, warmer kiss. His hands fell to rest gently on her thighs, and he cleared his throat.

"Thank you," he returned, and Ziva snickered before he joined her.

"No problem," she said.

Tony looked down to his lap. He couldn't see it, but he could feel the sticky wetness on his belly. "Uh, there are some napkins in the bag back there."

Ziva gave him another quick kiss before she stood on still weak legs and felt her way around. Her clean hand connected with his cell phone, and she hit a button to light up the screen. It cast a faint blue glow around her, and she moved the phone around until she found the discarded takeout bag. She reached in and drew out the napkins, and used one to wipe off her hand before turning to face him.

Tony swallowed hard at the sight. Ziva in soft blue light, naked aside from his shirt hanging open from her shoulders. _That_ was why he wanted to see her. She was damn near perfect.

Oblivious, Ziva held out the rest of the napkins to him. As he cleaned up, Ziva found her pants and redressed, buttoned up her shirt and tucked it in like before. She lay down beside him again as he also covered up and made himself presentable, and then she turned onto her side, facing away from him. Tony didn't take it as a rebuff, and instead scooted up behind her and fitted himself to her back. After a little more shifting and adjusting, they lay still against each other in the dark, with Tony's hand resting against her stomach.

"So, what are you doing tonight?" he asked conversationally.

Ziva's face split into a grin, and she snorted a laugh. "If I am not still at work? I think you and I might have plans."

"Damn right, we do," Tony said, and pressed his lips against the side of her neck.

"But we really need to sleep now," she said. "I don't want to be too tired."

Tony heaved a heavy, contented sigh. "Ziva, you're my best friend."

**

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Ahem. Hi, I'm jelenamichel, and I think I'm gaining a reputation as a smut author. My mother would be so proud. But I can do regular fics too! Probably the next one will be. Probably… **


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